Sleep Is For The Weak
by CallMeKouhai
Summary: Nations need sleep, too. Some of them like to stay up late - and they are adorable when they're tired (Basically, smol sleepy cinnamon rolls) Human and nation names used. Rated T for a future appearance by Romano.
1. Chapter 1

"Sleep Is For The Weak"

Basically this will be some smol sleepy cinnamon rolls, because I have writer's block, but I needed to do something. Friendly reminder that I do not own said cinnamon rolls.

{AUSTRIA}

Everything must be set aside for one's art.

Roderich sighed with relief as he finally finished his score, his trembling fingers barely holding the pen steady as he inked in the last few notes. It was done. He'd finished his newest composition.

He dropped the pen, muttering a curse under his breath. He scrabbled for it in a most undignified manner, his bleary eyes watering as he ducked into the dusty space under his desk to retrieve the pen. He hadn't slept in two days. He'd spent the entire time working on his piece. He was not allowing a dropped pen to stop him from finishing the writing of his piece.

Successfully retrieving the pen, he marked the 'Fine' at the end of his piece. There. It was entirely complete now.

He took a step back, mildly light-headed. Now there was only the concern of which of his needs to prioritize – was he tired, or was he hungry?

Oh, yes. That reminded him - Hungary. Elizaveta would be getting rather concerned for his health, seeing as he had just spent two days locked in his study, with no food, no sleep, and little water. She would take care of him, right?

He would have to find her first.

After a moment's struggle, Roderich managed to unlock the door, his vision blurring from exhaustion. The halls of his home seemed a daunting labyrinth. He set off at a slow shuffle, fighting to keep his tired eyes open. Where would Elizaveta be? Where was he? He had always had a terrible sense of direction, but now, even his own house seemed distant and unfamiliar. He had no idea where he was in the house, or which way he ought to go to find Elizaveta.

Humming softly, he began his search, trying a few doors and walking down empty hallways. "Frauchen Elizaveta?" he called, the words sounding odd to his ears. Perhaps that was too familiar of an address? "Herrin Elizaveta, are you here?"

His fruitless searching extended over several minutes, his pitiful calling growing weaker and weaker as his mind and body began to shut down, too tired to keep up the effort.

"Mester Roderich?"

He forced his eyes open again, surprised to find Elizaveta approaching him. "Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you, frauchen."

"…Why would I be in the library, Roderich?"

"…I'm in the library?" He strained to examine his surroundings. "It seems that I am. Oh, dear. I am most terribly lost."

Elizaveta sighed, taking him by the shoulders. "Édesem, are you tired? Hungry?"

He nodded obediently , like a young child faced with a parent.

"Then you are going to come with me, and I will take you to the kitchen. I will make you breakfast. And then you can take a nap."

If it had been anyone else, the patronizing tone underlying those words would have been insulting. However, Roderich was complacent, and he simply took her hand, letting her lead him to the kitchen.

"Thank you for finding me, liebchen."

Elizaveta smiled. "I have no idea what you'd do without me, Roderich, honestly."

"I would surely still be lost." He nearly tripped over the threshold, stumbling. He caught himself, clinging to her shoulder for balance. "Es tut mir schrecklich Leid, ich wollte dich nicht greifen-"

"Hush." She tapped his nose lightly, guiding him into the kitchen. "Just sit down, I'll make you breakfast."

He did as he was told, perching himself on a stool and laying his head on the counter. Elizaveta ruffled his mussed hair fondly, gently running her fingers through the strands of soft brown as she waited for breakfast to cook. The contact was reassuring, and he fell asleep for a few minutes, face-down on the kitchen counter.

"You're very sweet when you're sleepy, Roderich."

He leaned upward into her touch, making a soft noise of discomfort as he pulled himself more upright. He liked it. It was like a cat being petted. As long as she kept her hands in his hair and away from his e-zone, then he was quite happy with the arrangement.

Once food was placed in front of him, he realized just how hungry he was. If it weren't for many years spent practising formal etiquette, then he would have attacked his plate like a starving man. As it was, he was still eating so fast that he nearly choked on every second bite. Elizaveta continued to play with his hair as he practically inhaled his meal. He was awake enough to realize that he was giving himself a stomach-ache by eating so much, so fast, but he was too hungry and too tired to rationalize that that thought, or to care about it.

His stomach now full, warm, and heavy, he was even groggier than before. His eyes kept fluttering shut, his head drooping forward. Elizaveta helped him to his feet, leading him to bed. She lowered him gently, propping him up against his pillows.

"If you aren't going to get changed, then at least let me undo your corset."

"A-alright," he answered,

Roderich tipped his head back, blushing slightly as she unbuttoned his shirt, after removing his cravat and placing it on his dresser. He twisted to the side, letting her access the stays on the back of the corset. Her fingers were light and nimble, and she quickly untied the laces that bound him.

He exhaled slowly, the pressure on his torso relieved. He sank down into his pillows, his eyes already shut, his breath slowing.

Elizaveta draped his blankets over him, stroking the hair back from his forehead. She removed his glasses, folding them and setting them on the nightstand. After making sure that all the lights were out, she retreated quietly from the room.

"Sleep well, kis mester Ausztria."

Translation :

Frauchen – mistress or young lady (Ms. or Miss).

Herrin – mistress or young lady, the feminine version of 'Herr', which means 'mister' (Ms. or Miss).

Mester – master.

Édesem – sweetheart or darling, a term of endearment.

Liebchen – sweetheart or honey, a term of endearment.

Es tut mir schrecklich Leid, ich wollte dich nicht greifen – I am terribly sorry, I did not mean to grab you.

Kis mester Ausztria – Little master Austria.

I speak neither German nor Hungarian. Blame the translator for errors, corrections welcome. ^J^

Reader-senpai!

I have been having difficulty with what I'm supposed to be writing, so I'm writing cutesy trash instead ~

This is very self-indulgent and it's the product of headcanons, so don't expect much from it. I plan to do also Prussia, Switzerland, Norway, Canada, Romano, China, Japan, and Hong Kong – basically, my favourite boys – in no particular order. Like I said, very self-indulgent.

(I was looking at Cleaning Prussia-San artwork, and Austria's artwork, combined with my own headcanons, resulted in this fic – sleepy Austria is just adorable. And the drawings~)

I'll try to get another chapter or two up tomorrow, to make up for missing my past two Saturday night – Sunday morning uploads.

I don't think anyone actually cares, but I try. ^J^ Reviews are hugs for sleepy nations!

~Kouhai


	2. Chapter 2

"Sleep Is For The Weak"

{JAPAN}

Kiku struggled to focus on Ludwig's voice. The meeting was almost over. It was almost time for him to go home.

But then he had to meet with his government officials, and prepare his spare rooms for the American ambassador that was scheduled to come tomorrow, and he had to purchase more provisions, and discuss finances with Switzerland -!

Japan jerked his head upright, trying to force his eyes to remain open. Notes – was he supposed to be taking notes? Germany was doing a presentation on economics, he was fairly certain, and he should at least be copying down something… His blank paper stared up at him accusingly.

He was so tired. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept – was it two days ago? Three? No, it was four. Three days ago, he'd spent the night finishing the report that he'd handed in today, then he'd had to cover for Yong-Soo, who had managed to get himself in trouble again; China had delegated South Korea and his problems to the next oldest brother, who happened to be Japan. And two nights ago, he'd gotten stuck in a videoconference with England, France, and the North American brothers – who didn't seem to understand that their midday was his midnight. Last night had been spent traveling to the World Conference, preparing and sorting his papers. With his days busy and his nights busier, he simply hadn't had the time to sleep.

His head his the table with a loud thump. He bolted upright once more, startled awake. He could feel everyone's stares settling on him, his cheeks practically glowing with the intensity of his blush.

"S-sumimasen! Sumimasen!" he blurted, hiding his face in his hands. He had disgraced himself! He had offended Ludwig, too, falling asleep in the middle of his presentation.

Ludwig looked down at him with an expression of disapproval. Japan quivered under his glare, absolutely mortified.

"I'm sorry!" he repeated. "I must commit seppuku to rectify this disgrace!" He unsheathed his katana with a smooth, fluid movement.

"Wei! Put the sword down, aru!"

Kiku's head snapped up at the sound of China's voice. His tired eyes settled on the person sitting next to him, and he suppressed a gasp.

It was his big brother, China, almost exactly the way he remembered him from his childhood. "Zhong-Guo?" he asked, sure that his eyes were tricking him.

"Um, no?" Hong Kong looked at him skeptically. "I'm not, like, Yao, if that's what you're thinking."

"I'm over here, Ju Hua."

Kiku turned at the sound of the once-familiar name, to be greeted by what was actually China, his hand on the hilt of the katana. "I have told you before, you do not commit seppuku over a minor error or issue, aru."

"Sumimasen." Reluctantly, he sheathed the katana once more. He could still feel the other nations' gazes fixed on him, his cheeks burning with shame.

Ludwig's eye twitched. "May I continue now?"

"Hai."

Kiku strained valiantly to listen intently, and even managed to take a few notes, but by the time that Germany had finished his presentation, he was falling asleep on the table again. He pinched his arm, hard, and he winced. He was going to have tiny bruises up and down his forearms by the end of the meeting.

Most of the others had stopped staring, but he knew that Yao's eyes would be fixed on him for the rest of the World Conference. It was his nature – after spending so many years acting as an older brother, he was always going to be protective of the nations he had raised.

After an interruption by Alfred, and suffering through Arthurs closing remarks, Kiku was free to go. Finally. He just couldn't convince his tired body to stand up when it would be so much easier to simply give in to his exhaustion and sleep facedown on the tabletop.

"When was the last time you slept, aru?"

Kiku was surprised to force his eyes open and see Yao standing beside him. "I believe it was four days ago, though I'm not sure."

There was that familiar exasperated shake of the head, that disapproving click of the tongue. China's presence was soothing to him, for whatever reason. Perhaps it was due to childhood memories. They had been on poor terms for many years, and he had not associated with Yao outside of World meetings in… decades.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Ju Hua." China slid his arms around Japanese torso, pulling him upright.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I'm kidnapping you."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm taking you home with me, aru. And you are going to take a nap."

"I have business that I must attend to. I cannot –"

"You won't attend to anything if you are too tired to function." With that, Yao picked him up in a full-on princess carry.

Kiku flushed, shifting awkwardly in Yao's arms.

"Just relax, aru." Yao rocked him gently as he carried him out of the conference hall. "Go to sleep, Ju Hua."

Hesitantly, Kiku leaned into his brother's arms, exhaling slowly. He rested his head in the crook of his neck. His breathing evened out, slowing to a soft, steady rhythm, in time with Yao's own breaths. He nestled in his big brother's embrace, too tired to protest about the contact. It was nice, actually. Yao was warm, just as Kiku remembered him being from when Yao used to hold him as a small child.

His heavy-lidded eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. China smiled down at him as he settled into the back seat of a car, stretching the seat belt to cross over both Japan, who was curled up in his lap, and himself.

Kiku didn't stir when they exited the car minutes later. China waved goodbye to Hong Kong, who had been their driver, as the teenage nation sped off on his way to his own home.

Yao managed to walk home without incident, Kiku remaining quiet in his arms. He slowly made his way up the stairs to the bedroom, careful not to make noise on the creaky stairs.

He set Kiku gently on the bed, pulling the blankets up over him. He was about to leave the room when his little brother stretched out his hand.

"Gēgē," he murmured, his fingertips brushing against Yao's.

Yao's heart melted. This was what he missed, these little moments when he could tell just how much Kiku actually cared for him.

Quickly, he used his cellphone to send a message to Taiwan. She could placate Japanese government when Japan didn't show up to appointments on time. Then he dropped the phone on the nightstand, climbing into bed beside Kiku. Kiku snuggled up next to him, unconsciously curling up in his brother's arms.

Yao kissed his temple lightly.

"Alright, Ju Hua. I'll stay, aru."

Translation

Sumimasen – I'm sorry.

Seppuku – the Japanese stomach-cutting ceremony, a samurai's ritualistic 'honorable death', where the stomach is slit twice. It is performed when the warrior has been shamed, and can only regain his honor in death.

Zhong-Guo – China.

Ju Hua – Chrysanthemum (essentially the Chinese version of the name 'Kiku').

Hai – Yes.

Gēgē – big brother.


End file.
